lacey winters ❄ district two ❄ fin

Winter.
The season where tensions ran high, and temperatures ran low. The last leaves fell from the trees, glowing bright as embers. The district was still and quiet, practically frozen in time. Winter wasn't very popular in Two, but you loved it. It was the season when everyone around you was the most vulnerable.
You loved to carve words into other peoples' skin. Your knuckles always paled because of how tightly you gripped the hilt of the knife. You always started at the sternum, always kept the blade pointed upwards, because if you did not, you would damage the organs. And why damage something you could put to good use?
You could make stomachs churn, hearts shatter, and minds lose control. You placed yourself on the same pedestal as the highest of deities; there was no other place suited for a queen. Your crown was a heavy one, and it dug into your skin, but you didn't care. You were meant to rule.
That was how it had always been, and how it would always be.
(eighteen years and counting.)

***

When you were younger, your family always called you a princess. You were the favorite child, which made your older sister Dahlia envious. You both fashioned the same long blonde curls, but your hair was far more stringy. Your dark eyebrows slanted sharply downwards, creating a sinister look. You grew rather quickly as a child, stopping at a height of 5'6". Your eyes were steel blue, and in the sun they glittered cold as ice.
You weren't blind, but you may as well have been. You were horribly near-sighted, and that proved to be a disadvantage while you were training at the academy. The thick glasses you wore made your eyes look more than twice their actual size, and they fell off your face everytime you bent over. You begged your parents to get you contacts, and it was months before they finally caved. You often forgot to take them out before you slept or clean them, so your eyes burned a lot of the time. On top of that, you rubbed your eyes constantly. Your eyes turned red rather often, and Dahlia looked terrified every time you looked her in the eyes. When you finally asked her what her deal was, she pressed her lips together and walked away.
The next morning, she pressed her tongue into her cheek, like she always did when she was poking at the structure of a sentence.
She finally turned to you, and

"those red eyes.

you look like

the

monster

that

lurks

under my bed."

You smirked, leaned close, and whispered

"boo."

***

You had known that, from the (un)lucky age of thirteen, you loved to terrorize others. Your father jokingly asked you why you were not born of District Four, since you loved to fish so much. You would lure, and then you would hook. Once they realized it was air filling their gills instead of water, they tried to drift back out to sea, but the hook had already broken their skin and they were already bleeding out.
You didn't know what taste you enjoyed more, the taste of the fish or the taste of victory.
You were always appreciative of the arts. Whenever you got the chance, you would take a pencil and draw on the walls until the point had worn away. It was always gone by the next day, but you would go back and draw there again.
Your work never hung anywhere other than above your bed. You were not doing this to antagonize anybody, you were just doing this for you. You were tempted to overstep your boundaries, but you did not. There was no need to exhaust your parents in such a way. They were kind enough to you. They fed you, clothed you, and respected your beliefs. They supported you, along with a select few others. (You are human, after all. You cannot live your life alone.)
Only when someone had crossed a line was it alright for you to cross theirs.
That was why Dahlia Winters needed to suffer.

***

There probably were people in the world who were more toxic, more conniving than Dahlia, but you didn't care. Knocking her down to size was your first priority. She felt the need to be constantly overbearing. When you organized your room in a way that you liked, she came by and made a mess of it. (It was already a mess but she made it far worse.) She took things from your room without asking, made snarky comments, and cried wolf every time she instigated something. She was downright rude.
You would not tolerate rudeness. The people you fished for were innocent, oblivious to the chaos that unfolded all around them. You lured them in purely for your own enjoyment, and you didn't do much with them afterwards. But people like Dahlia could not be lured in by a can of worms or a crown of feathers. They had to be stalked. Hunted.
They were a threat to everything you worked so hard to build. They could destroy your relationships, your reputation, you. They could take away everything in the blink of an eye.
They were just like you.
And you could not have anybody else taking over your throne, now could you?
(you don't have strong fists but your words should be enough.)